Read My Heart || Damianya Oneshots ||

beautiful lily

When Damian receives the news, he's devastated.

It's more of disorientation in the beginning. Confusion that slowly melts into denial, then anger, then frustration, then a flurry of feelings that he can't identify until he was drowning in self-doubt and doubt in general. Doubting his friends, his family, the world. Doubting Anya.

Damian's book-smart, not street-smart. The books didn't tell him what to do. What can he fucking do in this situation?

A choice between his wife or his unborn baby.

When the doctor tells him this, he almost punches him. He wants to scream curses that have never come out of his mouth. Damian was never one to wear his emotions on his sleeve. But in this moment, his twenty-eight years of built up etiquette almost topple down.

But instead he punches the walls and the mirrors in his mansion. Trivial problems that can be dealt with.

Unlike this one.

He can scream all he wanted, run away and hide, but Anya would still be in the hospital bed, staring out the window at the endless meadow of calla lilies that once looked beautiful to him the day that they found out she was pregnant.

Now they look haunting and repetitive; the uncanny bright colors are an unwelcome light on his misery.

--

Her belly is now the size of a large pumpkin. Her glowing skin shines in the orange sunlight and her emerald eyes sparkle with nostalgia. They once sparkled with mirth.

The doctor says she could be due any day. Eight months ago, he prayed for that day to come everyday. Now he dreads it. Because when that day comesーif that day comes, that would be the last day he could smell her scent, hear her voice, and see her eyes, nostalgia or not.

--

"Anya, don't be stupid. Listen to me."

"I'm listening to you! And I'm listening to myself too! Look past yourself, Damian! There's more in this world than me-"

"But you're the most important in this world!"

Silence.

"Anya, please, don't be stupid. Just listen to me, just this once. It's not to late to get an abortion. Listen to me. I know you don't like taking orders, but please just think about this. Please, Anya, I'm pleading with you."

More silence. Damian hates the silence.

"Listen to me, okay? Anya? Answer me, Anya. Say something."

"...It's getting late. You should go back to bed."

"Anya, I-"

"I'm tired, Damian."

He's tired too.

--

She's still staring out the window. They haven't spoken since their last fight.

He never knows what goes on in her head. But sometimes it feels like she knows what's going on in his head.

Anya looks frail and thin despite her round bellow. How long has it been since she last ate properly?

Days, he guesses, if not more. He hasn't been able to choke down more than bread and water, so he can't imagine that she has any more luck.

If she wants to look at the lilies, there's a fresh bouquet of them right by her bed. But her eyes are fixed on the horizon and Damian can't tell if she's actually interested in the bright yellow flowers.